A Dirty Little Thought

Putting down her pen in frustration Jennifer decides to power-walk off some of her tension. There is a corner store 3 blocks away from the brownstone she shares with her husband, Kirk, who is out of town on yet another business trip.

Heading out the door Jennifer hardly registers her surroundings, musing over her problems. She had been trying to write a letter to Xaviera Hollander, the Ann Landers of sex columnists, asking for advice about her husband's lack of interest in sex with her. Jennifer was simply at a loss to explain it herself. She was still young at 32 with a body toned from frequent physical activity and the best set of breasts money could buy, which was were pretty damned nice if she did say so herself.

Her libido hadn't waned in the 7 years since she they had gotten married. She certainly hadn't forgotten any of her "tricks" and on the few occasions in the past year where he had succumbed to her advances she had easily gotten him off like a rocket, often leaving herself unsated. Her attention is rudely yanked back to the street by the blare of a car horn.

Jerking her head to see what has caused the commotion she realizes the horn was the mating call of a car full of young men. As she laughs at the antics of the fellow flicking his tongue at her from between his splayed fingers she thinks, "I'd tear your ass up".

Laughing at herself and her dirty thoughts Jennifer realizes that living in such a large city she should be used to the attention she gets from men, and a few women, whenever she leaves her front door. There are thousands of people within blocks of her home and even though her mind knows she should be offended by the attention, truth be told, it wasn't all that unwanted and she fantasizes about accepting some of their offers.

Take the passenger in the Camry sitting on the corner who is devouring her with his eyes. He looks like a college jock who could use a lesson or two from an older woman and he would probably love to learn those lessons all night long. The car is wrong though and there are no hotels near enough, she can't imagine being in a strange hotel with a strange man anyway, that would require conversation and she needs very little of that. Her mind is stimulated enough, it's her neglected pussy that needs tending too. No, a hotel wouldn't do. She just wants to walk up and ask him to fuck her. Please fuck her. Right there in the car. His nerdy driver could take her second or take her in the ass while his buddy pumped her pussy for all she cared, she just wanted a hard cock or two and she wanted it right then and there.

Shaking her head and laughing at herself she pulls back to her reality. She was a wife! Certainly not the type of woman to be having gratuitous sex with hot young football players ....or was she? It isn't like she would be hurting anyone because her husband certainly isn't satisfying her needs. What would happen if she asked a strange man to have sex with her? She could be mistaken for a hooker, that would be ironic but it would still accomplish her goal of getting laid.

Stepping through the door being held open by a mature gentleman in a sport coat she continues her musings...if she were to ask him, the man who had holding the door for her, if he would like her to suck his cock in the backseat of his car would he accept or would he say no? She wanted a cock in her mouth so badly she could feel it all the way down. He wouldn't say no, she was sue of it by the way he looked her up and down, discreetly letting his eyes linger on the swell of her shirt.

Stepping completely through the door, boldly flashing a smile as she meets the eyes of a construction worker who is checking her out as she passes on her way to the cooler. She has a quick mental flash of herself on her knees, bent over a 5 gallon bucket in the back of his van while he pounds her cunt from behind until she explodes. How difficult would it be to make that fantasy a reality? Glancing at the clock above the cashier's counter she sees it is the cocktail hour and, on impulse, asks for a box of condoms. What the hell. You only live once.

Almost running home, her tension mounting, she vows that tonight will be a night for her like she has never had before.

Stripping off her jeans and t-shirt on the way to the bathroom, feeling her nipples becoming erect and her cunt juices starting to flow she knows she needs to cum at least once before she walks back out into the night. No need to be too hasty in picking her first mark, a wrong pick could be disastrous.

Slowly soaping and massaging her breasts, one hands slides over her taut abdomen, cupping her well shaved mound for a moment before giving a slight squeeze that sends one fingertip plunging into her tight folds. The water running over her body feels fantastic and she gently flicks her clit with her thumb as she imagines the conversation with her first mark of the night.

"I'm waiting for a girlfriend to get off work at that corner building. Would you like to keep me company while I wait?"

She realizes it is imperative to approach him on the street so she has a chance to "read" him. If only for a moment. She will be nervous. Thinking about the encounter her fingers move faster and deeper into herself and she moans with pleasure. As soon as she is in the car she will unleash his cock and suck him to a full erection while he fondles her tits. Then, climbing atop him and mounting his stiff pole she will ride to... at the thought of the orgasm to come Jennifer's entire body convulses in the shower. She rips at the curtain with her free hand to maintain her balance as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. When her muscles quit shaking she gives herself one final rinse and pops out to get dressed, ready to face the evening.

Less than an hour and a half later she is standing on the corner of a busy downtown intersection, a block away from her husband's office. It being a weeknight she figures she can catch a few workaholics coming out of offices or the happy hour crowd coming out of pubs on their way home.

Taking her time to survey the territory, she feels like a new lottery winner on the first big shopping trip. So much candy and she can have anything she wants! She has dressed simple in strappy, low slung heels, a black mini skirt with a daring slit up the back and a pale silver chemise, no bra. The less she has to remove the better. Like a street whore she is selling her wares, but instead of accepting cash she needs payment in inches to be deposited into her dripping wet account on demand.

The light hasn't turned green for her to cross the street to the garage she had earlier pictured when she is approached by a tall, well built man. His jacket is draped over his arm and he is carrying a gym bag on his shoulder. Probably worked late and is now on his way to de-stress, thought Jennifer.

Looking him straight in the eyes and lightly licking her lips she looks up at him thinking "You'll be fine, just fine".

Instantly forgetting his and using a false one to introduce herself she spins a tale of being stood-up by a girlfriend whom she had planned to meet at the bar behind her.

"Big case. She's a lawyer and all. Actually she was just looking for a cab" she lied easily. "No, thank you, she wouldn't care to go back for a drink but she sure could use a ride uptown." Starting across the street with him, to his car parked in the garage, she knew this would be a night to change her life...and it had all started with one dirty little thought.